Don't You Love Being Pregnant?

Pregnancy is beautiful. Growing a human in the womb is a miracle. Life is a sacred blessing. Motherhood is an honor, not to be taken for granted. 

With that, I might offend some by saying this: I don't like being pregnant. Don't pause here waiting for me to say, "I don't like it, I LOVE it!" 

I am not that woman. If you'd like to read that, there are other bloggers who will satisfy that need for you. 

Nope. There's not much I enjoy about this 9 (actually 10) month experience. For some women, it is a time of hormonal blessing. Their skin radiates. Their tresses grow and curl naturally. They are energized, motivated, and exhilarated. And the sex has never been better! Well, I would love that, too. 

However, I break out. My youthful appearance goes full-blown Teen Queen and I get judging glances from elderly women at the grocery store. My hair falls out in clumps during, and especially after, pregnancy, leaving me with an unmanageable mane. I feel fatigued, lazy, and lethargic. 

And then I get diabetes. Forget about satisfying any cravings. It's protein and vegetables for me! My body is carrying about 30 pounds more than my frame can handle. Sometimes my sciatic nerve gives out and I collapse mid-walk (think Sandra Bullock as Ms. Congeniality in heels). 

Sleeping well is a memory, which only contributes to my out-of-whack emotions. I feel on the edge of rage for most of the day. Gerrit will ask me to "come see this or that." Goodness, doesn't he know how much work it is to get off the couch? There's a lot of rocking, pushing, and heaving involved. Whatever he needs me to see better be epic, because it certainly was to get off my rump. 

Every inch of my body is affected. Headaches, nausea, wonky eye-sight, turbo smell and taste, sore boobs, stretched skin, swollen fingers and ankles, charlie-horses at midnight.....

Yes, Cassie, cherish this magical time. Yes, the reward is a child....one I will have to rip forth from my nether regions, and without an epidural with my luck. But that's another blog for another day. 

I am happy for the women who love their pregnant selves. I grieve for those that wish they could be in my place, but cannot conceive. And I am absolutely grateful to be a mother. I cried and prayed for motherhood. 

Forgive me for not being a woman who glows from within during gestation. For me, the blessing is the child, not the journey to receive him. For me, these months are the first of many sacrifices for my son. And I am willing to give him that. 

But a crazy woman must vent form time-to-time to avoid becoming homicidal. This blog post was for the safety of society. 

You're welcome.